


Missing

by sherlockslittlespacegirl



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 22:16:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11366748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockslittlespacegirl/pseuds/sherlockslittlespacegirl
Summary: Brief moments of the life of John Watson and Sherlock Holmes, and something disappears each time. But sometimes, if you’re lucky, life gives you back the things you lost.





	Missing

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! :)  
> This is a little fic I wrote for @221bsherlockfandom_ 's writing competition on Instagram. It had to be 1000 words at most and the theme given was "Disappearance". It was a new experience for me because I'd never written anything like this before and I'm quite glad how it turned out. English isn't my first language, so please forgive me if there are grammatical mistakes... but a lot of thanks and big squishy cuddles to my amazing beta im_just_here_for_the_fanfic, who encouraged me when I was unsure about this work. Thanks!  
> Hope you enjoy it! :)

“You’re going out?”

“Yes, and I’m a little late, actually. Date.”

“Obviously. You’re wearing your date-shoes.”

“My- what?”

“Combed hair, freshly brushed teeth. Changed entirely after work. Wearing your favourite shirt under a dark blue jumper, so you apparently like her, but not enough to let it be the cream one. Jeans neatly pressed, those without the scuff on the hem. And your brown shoes. Solely worn whenever you want to impress someone, polished, new laces. You would never worry about something as trivial as new shoelaces if you wouldn’t care about the impression you make. And I know the last ones were still fully functioning. So, on a scale from one to ten, I would say she is a solid seven. How right am I?”

“…You know that sometimes I hate you?”

“No you don’t.”

“Yeah, ok. See you later. And don’t wait up for me; I’m still hopeful this one might take longer.”

“… Yeah.”

“… So. By then.”

“Have fun.”

“Thanks.”

 

~~~

 

“…”

“…”

“COULD YOU JUST STOP PACING?!”

“Woa, it never bothered you before! And am I complaining about you running around the whole time? Sometimes in nothing but a SHEET!”

“But you’re never doing anything important while I’m pacing! I’m trying to SOLVE A CASE, John!”

“You just have been sitting there for hours! And I know that you haven’t been in your mind palace lately, because I know how you look when you are. And I won’t stop pacing until I remember where I left my beige jumper!”

“… You will be unpunctual for your date if you keep pacing.”

“I know. And I also know that most women think I’m attractive when I’m wearing this particular jumper. … Come on, really? That look? You’re not the only one who can observe, trust me.”

“Anyway, just… pace somewhere else.”

“… You know what? Sod this. I’d rather put up with a lot more work in flirting than with a bloody sulky flatmate!”

“Fine.”

“FINE!”

“… John?”

“WHAT?”

“If you could stop at Tesco’s on your way, we’re out of milk.”

 

~~~

 

“Sherlock, where the hell are my brown shoes?”

“Hmpf.”

“Oh for… I’m actually talking to you! So would you just for once stop whatever the hell you are doing and answer?!”

“Oh come on, why should I know where you left your bloody shoes!”

“Because whenever I miss stuff it’s YOU WHO TOOK IT! I dread the day when… oh, not again. Sherlock, we already TALKED about heads in the fridge!”

“You dread what day?”

“That isn’t the bloody point now, okay? Just get this rubbish away from my jam! Hell no!”

 

~~~

 

“How was your date?”

“You already know how it was. So why bother asking?”

“Cultivated conversation?”

“You never do that.”

“Found your shirt?”

“Sod off.”

 

~~~

 

“One more miracle, Sherlock. For me. Don’t be… dead. Would you do that? Just for me, just… stop it. Stop this.”

“…”

“Please.”

 

~~~

 

“Two years. Sherlock. Two years. I… I thought you were dead! I went to your grave. You let me mourn FOR TWO YEARS!”

“John, I… I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? You’re SORRY?”

“I figured I didn’t matter that much! So I chose to do whatever it would take to keep YOU save!”

“You figured… Bloody hell, SHERLOCK! You remember that one day when I was looking for my date-shoes, as you call them? Maybe not… has been TWO YEARS ago…We had a row. I said something about dreading days and you asked me which day I dreaded. I wanted to say that I dread the day when I would miss something… someone… more important than some trivial jammy shoes. The most important person in my life, for example. The day when it would have been you I missed. When I wouldn’t be able to find you because someone took you from me. And the worst thing that could’ve… that could’ve happened… would have been that it was you who went on your own, choosing to go away. Like Donovan once said: One day we would be standing around a body and you would have been the one to put it there. I feared that if it was ever going to happen it would be YOUR body. And that’s EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED. Do you understand?! You, leaving me behind in this dull life…”

“I thought I wasn’t enough! You kept disappearing the entire time! I could feel you slipping further afar with every date you went on! You were looking for someone to share a life with, to have a family… And you had made it quite clear that you weren’t interested… several times!”

“You said you were married to your work, for God’s sake! But I couldn’t let you go… even then. That’s why I stayed, Sherlock! That’s the whole point! I could never let you go!”

“John…”

“…”

“Oh John, I… It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Maybe. But I’m here. I’m back. And I promise… that I won’t leave again.”

“…You know…ugh…you know you can’t promise that.”

“I know.”

“…”

“… Your shoes…”

“… Huh?”

“You were right. I took them. And your cream jumper. And the… shirt.”

“Why?”

“I was hoping that if your most attractive garments vanished, your chances to make a good first impression on all the women you dated would disappear, too. I can see now that it was a bit Not Good, but… I didn’t want you to leave. I needed you. I NEED you. And I know it was selfish…”

“You still have them?”

“I… yes. Couldn’t throw away the outfit I always hoped to see you in. Again. Sometime.”

“You know that sometimes I …”

“Hate me. Yeah, I know.”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

“Oh?”

“Sometimes… I just love you, you git.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“… Only sometimes?”

“Always.”


End file.
